Stop me if you've heard this one: A hot-tempered misanthrope with personal demons a mile long who meets and befriends a precocious young boy in desperate need of fatherly guidance. Yeah, we've seen it a thousand times before and these films are always winners with audiences because they make us feel good. And that's what
St. Vincent has going for it, basically, that despite hitting overload on the Cute Meter and going exactly where we know it will; by the end you're feeling good enough to give it a pass. Plus it has Bill Murray in full
Rushmore-mode, which is always a good thing.
Murray slips easily into the role of liquor-breathed degenerate, Vincent, a man with no money, no friends, a mountain of gambling debts, and no tolerance for anybody. That is except for his pregnant Russian "girlfriend" Daka (Naomi Watts), who also happens to be a prostitute with a chip on her shoulder. Vincent hates people, people hate him, and that only makes the arrival of his new neighbors a bigger problem. The first time he meets single mother Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) and her young son Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher) it's a showcase of his awful attitude. Think Clint Eastwood's character in
Gran Torino if he was meaner, drunker, and generally more "hey you kids get offa my lawn"!
With Maggie working long hours and Oliver attending an expensive Catholic School (with Chris O'Dowd hilarious as his teacher, we needed more of him), Vincent is called upon to be the kid's babysitter, despite ample evidence he'd be terrible at the job. And of course he turns out to be a bad influence in the way that somehow still makes him lovable. If you've seen
Rushmore,
The Royal Tenenbaums, or this year's
Bad Words, you'll see the montage of Vincent and Oliver hanging out coming ten miles away. It's still enjoyable to watch the old guy take Oliver gambling, to a bar, and to a strip club. The kid breaks down those emotional barriers Vincent has put up to escape a painful, and a little makeshift family begins to form.
Standard issue stuff, right? First-time writer/director Ted Melfi infuses a few personal details to a mostly clichéd story, and doesn't attempt to hide this is meant to be a rousing, crowd charmer. Because of that there isn't a ton of nuance to be found in many of these characters, but Melfi finds a way to make them all unique in their own way. Murray has played the irresponsible man child so many times in his career (stretching way back to
Meatballs) that this feels like a natural fit for him. He elevates what could have been just another angry old man character, giving us a deeper look at Vincent as the story unfolds to reveal some dark truths. Is it the Oscar-contending performance many have pegged it to be? Maybe not, but it's not for lack of trying by either Murray or Melfi, who take every opportunity to tug at the heartstrings. Audiences are going to love Murray, though, and he's great when paired up with Lieberher. It's also good to see McCarthy in a role that doesn't require her to play, loud, abrasive, and clumsy. She doesn't get many laugh lines here at all and it's actually a refreshing change to see her get away from the usual bag of tricks. The same can't really be said for Watts, who puts on an atrocious Russian accent and waddles around like...well, like a woman in her third trimester. She just doesn't serve much of a purpose except as an incubator for an inevitable heart-warming moment.
St. Vincent often feels like a manufactured grab for awards recognition and maybe it was. That much is unavoidable, but so too is how good the film will make you feel, and sometimes sending the audience home with a smile is more than enough.
Rating: 3 out of 5
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